


ACID RAIN

by the_neverchanging_winds



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: I WANT TO SEE THEM ALL BE HAPPY, M/M, No Proofreading We Die Like Men, They ALL Deserve Happiness, Whump, a cat named waffle house, but also more whump, but i promise i'll write a good ending, definitely fluff tho, gavin needs more love, happy end, i'm not good at fluff, i'm sorry in advance, smut maybe later if i feel like it, someone get me out of this hellhole of a fandom please i'm begging you, this is the only good thing david cage has ever given us, tw: mentions of suicide/suicidal tendencies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-06 03:54:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15878010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_neverchanging_winds/pseuds/the_neverchanging_winds
Summary: Two years after the Android Revolution, Gavin Reed’s extreme anti-android views have mostly subsided- even towards his plastic rival, Detective Tin-Can. But once all the excitement of the revolution dies down, Gavin’s ever-present depression drastically worsens; a wound that only deepens as he watches Connor and Hank grow together like a father and son. Though he’d never say it out loud, he might’ve admitted to himself once or twice that he was almost jealous. Jealous of what, he isn’t sure, but he’s pretty sure it isn’t going to matter in the end. He’s not going to be alive much longer, anyway.In other words, I didn't really like Gavin until like two days ago, and I'm suddenly very desperate to flesh him out and give him a robot boyfriend.TW/ Heavy mentions of suicide/ suicidal tendencies.





	1. Daylight, In Bad Dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't seriously written a series- or any fanfiction- in a really, really long time. Please bear with me as I remember how writing works. Also, the title comes from a song I thought was fitting of Gavin's character- Acid Rain, by Lorn. It's a pretty great, melancholic piece with a chilling video that makes you feel kind of sad and disturbed the first couple times you watch it.

He opens his eyes to the blaring of alarms, and flashing police lights bouncing off of midnight alley walls. He’s not entirely sure what’s happening, or why he’s just now become aware of the situation, but there’s a gun in his hand and several police cars surrounding him. Right in front of him are the dream team themselves, Connor and Hank. Hank doesn’t seem the least bit surprised or phased that Gavin’s absolutely soaked in blue blood, and Connor’s got this look in his eyes like he’d be okay with slowly choking the man to death. Whatever the fuck it is he just did, maybe he deserves it.   
“You should give up now, Reed!” Hank calls to him through a megaphone. “We’ve got you surrounded. There’s nowhere left to run now.” Several blurry police officers around them raise their guns in unison, waiting for Gavin to make one wrong move. He swears Connor’s smirking.   
He really, really doesn’t understand what the fuck is going on, but there’s suddenly fear and anger and desperation coursing through him. _I fucking did this,_ something in his brain is saying. _I’ve made so many fucking mistakes._ He suddenly can’t bring himself to focus on the people in front of him, people he’s known for so long making him feel so threatened and scared. His eyes are desperate to look at anything else, so he brings his attention to the ground- and almost lets out a scream.   
There’s a mangled android right at his feet, her skin glitched in places on her face and bullet holes scattered across her chest. Her lifeless eyes are staring straight into his soul, stealing his breath- the way he apparently stole hers with the weapon in his hands. He can barely make out his faded jeans and sneakers beneath all the thirium. He wants to cry, or vomit, or both.   
He did this?  
Gavin did this?  
_I did this?_  
But of course he did this! He’s the one holding the gun, isn’t he? Aren’t his coworkers waiting patiently to tear him to shreds? Isn’t he the one covered in thirium? Isn’t the just like the rest of his miserable life, wherein he’s somehow found a way to make everything go horribly wrong? Isn’t he to blame?   
Isn’t he always to blame?   
Gavin’s pretty sure he’s crying, but he can’t feel his face, or his hands, or his chest. He stares directly into Connor’s deadset eyes as he raises the gun to his temple, and presses it there firmly. Connor smiles and soundlessly mouths _‘do it.’_  
He’s to blame. He was always to blame. No matter what it is or who it is that he’s fucked up or hurt, it will always be his fault. He’s made so many mistakes.  
This will be the last.

The second he pulls the trigger, Gavin jerks upright in his bed, breathing heavily. His cat, Waffle House, is right beside him, wearily lifting her green eyes to peer at him in the darkness. Seeing her there with him calms him down monumentally, but he can’t seem to stop shaking.  
“Goddammit,” he mutters aloud. This isn’t his first rodeo with really fucked up nightmares, but it’s the first one where he’s actually died- or had it _implied_ that he died, anyway. It was almost like the dream Gavin’s death was the only thing that could’ve transported him back to reality. He’s been having these nightmares a lot more frequently lately; whether they scare him or disappoint him (by not being real), he isn’t quite sure anymore. Every constant in his life had been flipped upside down, toppled or corrupted one way or another.   
After the revolution, his far more successful brother Elijah reclaimed his throne at Cyberlife, leaving Gavin in the dust once again just like he did all those years ago, when he made Chloe. Everyone at the DPD had grown irritated with his rhetoric a long time ago and learned to ignore him. He’d even managed to drive away Tina, the one person that actually attempted to tolerate him- so he was officially alone in the world, save for his little black ball of fur, Waffle House.   
And now here he was at- what was it? Two in the morning?- quietly thinking over how his life was going wrong, right after he shot himself in the head. As much as he enjoyed having early morning pity parties and ranting to Waffle about all his problems, he had to drag his miserable ass into work the second the sun rose, and hell knows he was downing more coffee on a daily basis than any normal human being ever should already. _Perhaps,_ Gavin thinks to himself as he falls onto his back, _that dream bullet will transcend the reality in my head and finally put an end to me for good._  
Hell knows he’s too much of a coward to do it himself.

Gavin fails at going back to sleep. He lays dormant in his bed, wandering his mind and occasionally shedding a tear or two, until he peers at his clock from the corner of his eye and realizes it's only a couple minutes away from beeping. Four cups of coffee, a shower and a fed cat later, and he’s making his way back to his high-paying hell. As per usual, Connor’s already there with a grumpy looking Hank that seems almost as tired as Gavin feels. And as per usual, he throws his keys onto his desk and heads for the coffee maker straight away. The pleasant aroma always had a way of making him feel slightly warm inside, but the feeling never lasted. He absently wondered what it would take to make him feel genuinely happy again.  
“Good morning, Detective Reed!” An all too familiar, chipper voice says behind him. With a glance, Gavin’s suspicions are confirmed- Connor’s making his way over to the coffee maker exactly as he has every single day for the past two years, the gentle blue at his temple indicating his calm demeanor. Gavin can’t bring himself to completely be an asshole anymore, so he mumbles a, “sup,” and makes a point of leaving the room as quickly as possible.   
“Wait, Detective Reed!” Connor calls after him. Internally, Gavin groans.  
“What do you want, tin can?”   
Connor jogs over to catch up- completely unnecessary, but kind of amusing- and absolutely fucking _beams._ “I’m throwing a surprise party for Hank on Sunday. He says he hasn’t celebrated his birthday in eight years, and I believe he more than deserves it.”   
Gavin’s eyes briefly glance away, then back at Connor, away, then back again. “And this has... _what_ to do with me, exactly?” The android falters, his perfect grin falling lopsided and his eyebrows furling.  
“I’m...I’m asking you if you want to come, Detective.”   
Gavin nearly laughs out loud, and is only able to stop himself because he’s so taken aback that he’s sure his voice wouldn’t work if he even tried. Connor? Inviting him? To a party? For Hank?  
Connor inviting him to a party?  
Getting invited to a party?  
Getting asked if he’d enjoy attending a social gathering? Who the fuck even threw parties anymore? When was the last time he’d even been at one?  
Probably some time long ago, when he and Elijah were still kids. They always threw parties for his brother- his intelligent, attractive, very punchable brother- on his birthday. The last party he went to was the one Eliah threw after Cyberlife officially took off in Detroit. No one asked him to be there, and he didn’t really feel the need or desire to be, but he wanted to see his ass of a brother one more time for the person he really was, and not the billionaire, fake personality fuckwad he was about to become. That night ended with him getting expensive white wine thrown in his face, and his brother’s numerous body guards kicking him out.   
What if this simple Hank party ended with blue blood all over his clothes, and a gun in his hand, and everyone he’s ever worked with ready to shoot him?   
_Or what if it ends with a few people hating me a little less and I actually enjoy myself for once?_  
“Gavin?” Connor asks. His smile’s gone; the LED is blinking yellow. Gavin’s pulled out of his trance, not yet used to hearing the robocop say his first name. Because deviancy meant he didn’t have a problem doing that anymore.   
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Uh…” He either says no and keeps his reputation as the office downer, or he says yes and risks giving himself one more reason to swallow a bullet. He knows that Sunday will end the way every Sunday ends if he doesn’t- alcohol and singing Mr.Brightside to Waffle until he passes out sobbing on the couch. He makes a impulse decision before he can stop himself and consider the consequences of fucking it all up.  
“Yeah, sure, I’ll go. Whatever.”   
Connor’s face lights up again, probably surprised, but obviously pleased. “Great! Thank you so much. Nine P.M., Sunday, alright?”  
“Y-yeah.”   
“See you then, Detective!” And with that, the android happily marches away.   
Internally, once again, Gavin groans. What the fuck did he have to lose, in the end?   
Who knows. Maybe this’ll make his dreams come true.


	2. A Cool World, Full Of Cruel Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin's prone to mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided that it'll be hard to keep up with this between school and other personal projects, so I'm keeping this fanfic short. I want to actually finish it though, so I'm picking up the pace a little as well. I'm definitely not just using this to cover up my poor excuse for pacing. Again, I haven't written in a long time lmao
> 
> pls dont hate me, my writing style has degraded over the years because i stopped reading physical books 
> 
> also im sorry in advance, i just really needed to ruin Gavin's life and this is what my tired ass brain came up with
> 
> edit: i was tired last night and some of my italics didn't work. they're fixed. i'm still tired.

Saturday’s rolled around before anyone can blink, and Gavin resolves to try not to spend the day mulling over Sunday. He’s thought about cancelled at least seven times since he got up this morning, but can’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he decides he’ll do some overtime at the station- to clear his head, and to get a little extra money (because he desperately needs it.) Fortunately, since android and human crime has returned to being a norm in Detroit, the DPD is in desperate need of officers on patrol, Gavin gets to play on-duty officer for a day and drive around looking for crime.   
As if he really needs anymore time to get lost in thought.  
The day starts off gray, and the air smells like rain. The air’s disgustingly hot, having reached the rear end of summer. A perfect day to be in a car for several hours, really. There’s some kind of modern retro stuff blaring from the radio, so it's easy to immediately fall into the rhyme of driving and getting lost.   
Gavin’s mind wanders instantly. It wanders to Connor, the source of this entire problem. The android had no reason to invite him, and Gavin had no reason to agree to it. Had this man so drastically changed in the last two years that he actually seemed approachable? Especially to Connor, of all people? He used to hate Connor’s guts, like the racist prick he was. Though, he had stopped calling him all the degrading names he used to use. He even stopped saying _it_ instead of _he._ Simply speaking, he got over himself. At the end of the day, Connor was too human to keep dehumanizing. So that was probably it. Gavin was nicer, so Connor was nicer.  
What Connor never considered was that he was probably the only ‘living’ being capable of getting over months of degradation. Everyone in that station probably still hated his guts. They’d shoo him out if they could. The fact of the matter was that Gavin probably should’ve died a long time ago- it was a wonder he hadn’t been shot on the job already.   
And right on cue with the mood, it begins to rain. It’s coming down in little droplets at first, but then it’s pounding down on the roof of the car and completely obstructing his vision. It’s loud, and disruptive, and completely derails his train of thought...but maybe that’s a good thing. After falling for a while, it falls into a kind of soothing rhythm; a much welcomed white noise. Melodic static set to the backdrop of a city, falling apart at the seams. A music video in which Gavin is the star, hazy-eyed and tired and melancholic, all too willing to lose himself to the peace of this moment; surrender his frail existence and let this machine take him absolutely anywhere, give him just one day where he’s not constantly plagued with fucking _thoughts-_  
“Connor!?” Gavin yells aloud to no one, swerving over a curb and onto a sidewalk to narrowly miss the android, standing in the middle of the road. Connor’s still standing there once Gavin’s got the car into a safe position, and he’s ready to give the fucker a piece of his mind. _So much for peace of mind._  
“Goddammit, Connor, I almost hit your stupid ass! Why are you in the street?”   
“Detective,” Connor says, as if he’s just noticed. “Can’t you see the signs? It said it was safe to cross. I believe it was you who just ran a red light.”   
“See the- the fuck are you-”   
But when he glances, there they are- electric crosswalk signs, tightly bound to a pole. The walking sign was just now blinking to a hand. It was his fault for being careless. Again.  
“Are you alright, Detective?”   
“Peachy,” Gavin snarls. He’s so fucking over this, already. He wants to get back in his car and get absolutely lost, somewhere Connor or anyone else won’t be able to find him. Or maybe, now that he’s had his little moment snatched away from him, he should just go home and curl up with Waffle House and say fuck it to the overtime.  
But as he’s ready to climb back into his vehicle, he catches Connor patiently watching him over his shoulder, not moved in the slightest. Gavin can’t help but notice how the android’s not even wearing a coat, and his usually well-kept hair is weighed down with rainwater. He can almost make out the android’s skin through that incredibly thin shirt he’s wearing- the guy’s absolutely soaked and the air is so gross, and he’s standing in the middle of the road as if nothing was wrong.  
“Where the fuck were you going, anyway?” Gavin calls against his better judgement.   
“Pet store,” Connor calls back.   
“Well get the fuck over here and get out of the rain!”   
Connor cocks his head a moment, LED visibly flashing yellow, before he finally decides to comply. Although every move he makes seems overcalculated and hesitant, he seems grateful to get someplace dry. Once they’re both in the car again, Gavin struggles for a moment to get onto the road, then takes off in the direction Connor was heading.  
The silence hangs heavy between them. The gentle pattering of the rain isn’t as soothing as it was before, a new strain of tension filling the silence instead. He’s not sure, but Gavin thinks he sees Connor glancing over now and then.  
“Detective?” He asks after a long while. Gavin huffs in response. “Can I ask you a personal question?”   
“Why not?” he mutters.  
“Have you ever been in a relationship?”   
Gavin nearly jerks into another fucking pole, his face instantly heating up with shame. The honest answer was that he hadn’t been in one for quite some time- long enough that he’d lost track of the time, of his house and of his will to live. The truth is that none of them stayed, Gavin’s naturally dickish nature driving them all off. But the only thing he can say out loud is, “once or twice. Not right now.” He waits a moment, then adds, “why?”   
“You just seem upset is all. You were quick to invite me into your car and you isolate yourself often.”   
“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”   
Connor tilts his head. “My name is Connor.”   
“I know, dipshit, I know.” Connor smirks.  
They’re at the pet store before he can say anything else (thankfully), and the android hops out of the car with a little wave and a quiet, “thanks.” He scuttles off faster than Gavin expects him too, but he’s okay with being alone again. For the remainder of the ride, he thinks about his relationships with other people- not only intimate, but generally- and how a light shade of blue had come across Connor’s face when he’d bought it up. He’s thinking about it when he makes it back to the DPD, and he’s thinking about when he’s sleepless at two in the morning, the only thing keeping his usual depression at bay.

\-------------

 

Hank’s house isn’t the prettiest place ever. Far from it, actually. It’s modest, and the most well lit building on the entire street- the only one, Gavin quickly realizes- but it seems cozy enough from the outside, despite the entire area surrounding it being littered with cars. There’s even a car in the front lawn, of all places. Gavin opts for simply curbing across the street instead, since the house he stops in front of doesn’t seem like there’s life within, anyway.   
He inspects himself one more time as he approaches the door, butterflies quickly building in his gut. He’s already forty-five minutes late, as it is. He had to put on a semi-tight pair of black pants and a black button down tucked into the waist of the pants, making him look more like he was attending a funeral than a birthday party. He would’ve worn something colorful or lively, but it was honestly the most formal attire he had- that, and he really couldn’t afford anything else at the moment, anyway.  
Gain takes in a sharp breath, then knocks. The door opens almost immediately- to some tall blonde guy that he’s definitely seen somewhere before. The guy gives him a little tight lipped smile and steps aside.  
“Reed, right? Come in.”   
“Uh...thanks.”   
How blondy knows his name, he honestly doesn’t know, but it quickly becomes the least of Gavin’s worries- a quick scan of the room lets him know that Connor literally asked everyone in their unit to come, and literally everyone showed up, even a slightly drunk Fowler yucking it up in a far off corner with Hank. There’s some other people that Gavin’s not familiar with mixed in with some of their coworkers on the couch and a chair, effectively cramming the living room- some woman with her dirty-blonde hair in a side ponytail sitting next to Chris and...someone else. _Robot Jesus,_ Gavin realizes. The blonde guy that let him in is resting on the arm of the couch next to Markus, and Connor’s standing beside him. Wilson’s got the chair, and everyone else is either on the floor or standing around. Either way, they’re all seemingly talking at once and laughing every few sentences. Like one big, really fucking weird family that’s just known each other for eons.  
After a long while of Gavin awkwardly standing off to the side watching, he catches Connor’s gaze; the android motions for him to join them. Everyone else in the group turns to face him, some of them wearing surprised expressions. Slowly, he shuffles to take up a blank space on the floor, next to another guy he doesn’t recognize, who promptly hands him a glass full of...something. It smells like wine, but its orange. Probably some weird android-safe thing.  
Everyone in the room, aside from the people Gavin doesn’t know and the androids, already seem like they’re well into drunkness. Even Tina’s there, laughing her ass off as though she didn’t hold a grudge against most of the people in that room. All of it feels so unfamiliar and Gavin feels so out of place that he’s seriously starting to regret having ever showed up. He quickly learns absolutely everyone he doesn’t already know is an android- including Josh, the guy next to him, and Simon, the blonde. It didn’t take anyone very long to forget he was sitting there, aside from Connor sneaking glances in his direction now and then. He’s really fucking uncomfortable. He wants to leave.  
A good thirty minutes later, Connor abandons his conversion and stands, calling Hank over. The old fuck is half using Fowler as a crutch, both of them way more relaxed than usual and chuckling every time one of them almost topples over.   
“‘What’s goin’ on, Con?” Hank slurs out. Connor innocently smiles.   
“We’ve all been gathered here to celebrate you. Properly. Not with an extra donut on your desk in the morning.” This remark earns a couple giggles. Gavin rolls his eyes. The front door is calling his name- he can _feel_ whatever mushy shit is about to go down and he knows he won’t be able to deal with it. He wants to go out and smoke, at least. Clear his head and rewind, to attempt to get through the rest of the night. He doesn’t have the leeway to do that yet, without looking totally rude.  
“You’ve been a huge part of my...rather brief life, and I owe everything to you. I might not have even become deviant if I didn’t care about you, and I probably would’ve died a few times if you didn’t care about me, too.” The android took this opportunity to wrap his arm around Hank. “So thank you. You’re the best father anyone could ask for. And I wanted to get something special for you, so...”   
Everyone in the room starts clapping, and Hank remains bashful and quiet and teary-eyed. Gavin’s heart hurts. He needs to leave. He has to leave. He can’t sit here and watch this anymore. It reminded him too much of something he always wanted and never got to have. He can’t fucking take it. He knows this is some kind of touching moment, but he’ll probably start crying himself if he doesn’t move.  
He doesn’t care if everyone’s watching him stand, doesn’t listen to the voices telling him not to reach for the doorknob or open the door, doesn’t care about how panicked they sound-  
Until a little brown Saint Bernard puppy runs past Gavin and straight out the door, into the path of a pair of headlights shining bright against the wet street. The cry the little dog gives is deafening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cruel things.  
> Nothing like a big bad bridge to go burning though, huh?


End file.
